


For What I Am Not

by NotGuyFieri



Series: Works In Progress [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Bat Family, Gen, POV Damian Wayne, POV First Person, Suspense, Takes Place In 2019
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9431819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotGuyFieri/pseuds/NotGuyFieri
Summary: "Tell me what you know about Red Hood.""Couldn't there be a better time for this?""You're from the future, no?""I mean yeah, but-""So fucking tell me what you know about Red Hood."Otherwise known as the story where Jason Todd, who has believed to have been dead for five years, seeks out Damian Wayne's help to get revenge on The Joker.





	1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

Perhaps I'd be in a better mood if I woke up to the sight of a snowless Gotham. Though, I don't have that kind of luck. It was snowing, little specks of white gently spiraling down onto the ground as if the world was a giant snow globe.

Despite that, there was really nothing special about today. As usual, I made my way down into the dining room, where Grayson was eating his food faster than he probably should- a thing he most likely picked up due to hanging around Wally West- and Drake was on his hologram, typing away for some reason. From a distance, he looked serious, but I could tell as I neared that he was actually texting his girlfriend, Cassandra Sandsmark.

 _Significant others. What a waste of time,_ I thought as I sat down.

"Good morning, Master Damian." Alfred's elegant and accented voice greeted me from behind, "We have English muffins and bacon on your right, as well as pancakes and eggs on your left."

"Thank you, Pennyworth." I murmured quietly. If there was one thing Father always made certain I do, it was to thank Alfred as much as possible. It got old after a while, and Father isn't around right now, so I didn't even attempt to make it loud and clear.

"What was that, Master Damian?" Alfred asked, obviously not hearing the first time.

_Old people._

"Thank you." I muttered once again, this time more annoyed because he hadn't picked up upon it previously.

Alfred gave a small smile before walking off, and I filled my plate with food before Father entered. He looked surprisingly rested, though he was always in his usual grumpy manner. He sat down at the table in silence, holding a small conversation with Alfred for about a minute before beginning to eat.

"Welp," Dick's voice came seemingly out of nowhere, "I've gotta go. The Team needs me at the Watchtower. Bye, Bat-Squad."

"Why don't you bring me with?" I asked. My own voice surprised me. I hadn't intended on letting my inner thoughts out. You couldn't blame me, though. Sitting around Gotham got boring after a while.

"Because you're not on the Team, kiddo." Dick laughed, approaching me, wrapping me up in his arms affectionately and giving me a noogie. I didn't even attempt to escape his grasp; I've lived at the manor long enough to know that when Dick wanted to show affection, nothing would stop him, not even my biggest scowl. "Maybe one day, Dami." he added softly. _Too softly._ I didn't like it when Grayson softened up, because when he softened up, so did I.

"Why not now?" I asked, feeling as if though since I already started the conversation, I shouldn't end it so soon. I felt I knew what the answer would end up being, though.

"Because you're too young."

Yes, there it was. ' _Too young'_ has always been seen as a bullshit thing to me. Even though I am only eleven years old, I most likely have more experience fighting crime than the majority of the Team.

I guess Grayson spotted the frown that had formed on my face, because he responded.

"Damian, our youngest member is Stargirl; she's barely fourteen, and she still has quite a couple years on you."

"I understand, Grayson." I acknowledged and nodded.

He smiled before leaving the room, Tim mumbling goodbye so quietly that I was barely able to pick up on it.

"I have to take off, too." he said, standing up, his hologram going back into his wrist band, "I've got a hot date." he grinned.

I rolled my eyes. Alfred quietly chuckled, and Bruce looked at him skeptically.

"Oh?" he asked, "What occasion comes up where bringing your girlfriend to a restaurant is more important than getting your ass out to the Watchtower and doing your duty?"

I laughed a bit too loudly, but I couldn't help it. Sometimes Father was as brutal as me.

_Sometimes._

"Three-year anniversary." the answer came simply out of Tim's mouth, obviously unfazed by Bruce, "Six months early, but yeah."

Bruce rolled his eyes like I did.

"Get out." he said, slightly annoyed, not wanting to bother with him anymore.

"He's just getting cocky because he's nearing graduation." I guessed as Tim left the room. I heard it was common among seniors in high school.

"Don't behave like that when you are in the same scenario, Damian." Bruce warned before standing up, "Come on, we've gotta train."

I wondered what he meant by the same scenario. A senior in high school, with a girlfriend, perhaps? Skipping off my duties to take her out to dinner? Dropping the mantle of Robin just to add a "Red" in front of it?

I didn't know.

Whatever, it didn't matter. My time to graduate would be far from now.

I followed Bruce to the training room, and we did what'd you'd expect; martial arts, weight-training, running- I've grown so used to it I didn't even notice when it was over.

I returned to my room, intending to watch some television then head out to patrol the city in the evening. I looked back outside. Still, it snowed.

As some people would say, January is like the Monday of months, because that's when most people start their school or work week. For myself, it's easy to say I've never experienced an ordinary childhood, and everyday of the week is the same to me. But I do understand where everyone else is coming from. I hate January. It's too cold and snowy.

I watched T.V. for a few hours, which was mostly just flipping through channels. I heard a knock on my door, and I knew it was time to go. I turned the T.V. off, and eagerly made my way out of the door.

Though, I didn't show my eagerness. I kept a calm demeanor, following Bruce down into the Batcave, where I slipped on my form-fitting uniform, ready to head out.

It was just another day.

Plus a ton of snow.


	2. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE**

The night wasn't too exciting. I saw stuff you would stereotypically see in Gotham; purse-snatchers, burglars, carjackers, and drug dealers. No super villains, however. No wacky Joker trying to blow up Gotham again.

I've always wanted to see him. I'm curious as to how bad he actually is. Despite all of the training I received while I still lived with Mother and Grandfather, I've only been Robin for a year, so I don't know exactly what the Joker is like. I just know Father hates his guts. I don't blame him; I mean, the guy's supposedly a maniac who has killed countless numbers of people.

Oh, and on top of that, he murdered Jason Todd. Guess that'd make sense, too.

The days would pass and I would repeat the same stuff. I'd wake up each morning, eat breakfast, Drake and Grayson would go out to the Watchtower, Father and I would train, then leave the manor to patrol.

I'm used to it by now, but it's _so boring._ I wonder if regular children felt this way about school; getting up, eating breakfast, doing the same thing everyday at school, then going home- rinse and repeat for twelve years straight.

It's not right to get excited over hearing about the Joker causing chaos in downtown Gotham. But it was finally my chance to see him and kick his ass, to lock him up for good. A small voice in my mind told me that if Father couldn't keep him contained, then there was absolutely no way I could. But still, I pushed it aside, having hope. Bruce and I headed out, jumping with precision out of the Batmobile, and we faced the laughing maniac.

It was the first time I got a good look at him. I've seen him in pictures and videos before, but never in person. His face was smeared with white powder, and black eyeliner made circles around his eyes. Blood-red lipstick was applicated messily onto his lips, and his hair was a dyed green, shaggy, dry, and full of split ends. Despite all of this, he wore a clean purple suit with a green tie. His black shoes shined in the streetlights as he held a gun next to a crying teenage girl's head.

I went to pull out my staff whilst trying to think of a way to save her life, but just as I did, a bullet soared through the air and into the Joker's head so quickly that only a Flash would be able to react to it in time. He fell to the ground, and people screamed. The girl escaped and ran. Still, he laughed. The maniac got shot in the head, and he _laughed!_ I could see Father's eyes widen behind his cowl, and I looked around for the sniper who committed the act. There was nobody.

Bruce and I ran over to the Joker, who was _still laughing._ I had no idea how he wasn't dead. Fear struck through my heart as I realized that it was possible that the Joker wasn't human, but instead, some sort of immortal creature.

He bled, and he laughed. I didn't know how to react. The blood pooled to my feet, and I just watched. Bruce called out to me, but his voice was faint in the ringing that now flooded my ears.

I began to forget what was going on around me. I didn't care. All I could focus on was his smile on his face, those wide eyes and surprisingly pearly-white teeth. His eyes were a bright green, I noted, like mine.

He was taken away, but I didn't know by who. Bruce and I got back into the Batmobile, and he drove in silence before pulling up to a dark alleyway, stopping the car, pulling down his cowl, and looking at me.

His eyes didn't match mine. They were a deep brown, nearly black. I knew that I inherited the green eyes from my mother, but it scared me feeling more similar to the Joker rather than my father, in a way.

"Are you okay? You froze up back there." he said, with a tone nearly foreign to me. It was soft and sincere, nothing you'd ever expect out of Bruce Wayne nor Batman.

"Who do you think did it?" I asked instead, not bothering to answer his question. I was slightly embarrassed to ask that; after all, we are supposed to be the world's greatest detectives. I should have twenty suspects in my head by now.

But by the look frown on his face and his narrowed eyebrows, I could tell that Father was just as clueless as I was. Gotham had twelve-million people living in it, and those were just the people living here legally. The sniper himself could have also been from a completely different town, or hell, even country.

We drove home, and at dinner, the entire family got to hear what happened (As well as Sandsmark, because she was there, too). We discussed as to who could have done it. Still, nothing seemed to click.

Father had scavenged the bullet that shot him, which from some analyzation and tests, proved to be from a Blaser sniper. Unfortunately for us, there were no fingerprints or fabric bits on the bullet that could lead us to the man who did it. In the Batcave, Father was looking up who in Gotham legally owned a Blaser sniper, while I made birdarangs.

Then it hit me.

"Why are we trying to catch the guy?" I asked, looking over to him. He had multiple holograms active, all flashing images of certain weapons or people. He spun around swiftly in his computer chair, his fingers crossed within each other, and he gave me a stern look. I returned it.

"Do you really want an assassin on the loose?" he asked simply, his voice monotonous.

"Well, it's obvious he's on our side. I think he did us a favor." I commented, looking back down to continue my work.

I guess I said the wrong thing, because Father got up off of his chair, walked over to me, and folded his arms, a strict look plastered upon his face. I wasn't intimidated by it. Not anymore. I looked back up at him, my face plastering its own look that said, "What do you want?"

" _Damian."_

There he goes with the names.

"We _don't know_ whose side he's on." he said, this time his voice having some emotion slip through it.

"I suppose you're right." I admitted, though the question still lingered at the back of my mind, "But what if he ended up only wanting to kill the Joker, and not others? What would happen then?"

Father was silent before saying, "I'll have to think about that."

Father had plenty of time to think. An entire week passed, and no news of the assassin came around. Turns out, the Joker was shot in an area in his head that wasn't fatal, but barely. He nearly died. Still, the thought of the assassin bugged me. Who were they? Why did they shoot the Joker instead of letting Father and I take care of him? How did they know the Joker's location? Were they hired by somebody?

At the breakfast table, it was only Father, Alfred, and I. Of course, Nightwing and Red Robin were already gone. A new question lingered at the back of my mind this time around, and it was the most important one I could think of. For a second, I was afraid of Father for the first time in a _long_ time.

"Why haven't you killed the Joker yet?" I asked, and Bruce stopped eating his food mid-chew. He looked at me, then continued to chew, swallowed his food, and was silent for a few seconds.

"You sound like Jason." was all he said before returning to looking away from me, acting like nothing had ever happened.

I didn't realize a low growl had escaped my throat. I've heard of Jason before; he was the Robin before Drake. From what I know, he was a troublemaker who was picked up from the streets. He never listened, constantly got into arguments, and _big surprise_ \- his stupidity got him killed, and the deed was done by the Joker himself.

I am most certainly _not_ Jason Todd.

Father had obviously heard my growl, because he looked at me for a few seconds, a confused expression on his face.

"You react to that as if it were a slur." Alfred commented, cutting up a pancake.

"It _is_ a slur. To me. Don't _ever_ compare me to Jason Todd again." I demanded to Father, and I half-expected him to start arguing with me.

"No promises," he said simply, "but I will try not to."

I wasn't in the mood for anymore conflict, so I took that as an acceptable answer. I finished up my breakfast, then went to train.

That night, Dick decided it'd be a good idea to have a family game night. He did things like this around once a month. I didn't like them, really. He would always get way too enthusiastic about these childish games that we'd play.

_Apples to Apples_ was the one he picked out, and he put on a two-hour timer. I decided I might as well put in some effort if I was going to be stuck here for a full two hours. I lost every round, a green card never making its way into my pile. Eventually, only two minutes were left on the clock. I stood up and began to walk away from the table.

"Where are you going?" Barbara called from the distance.

"I'm leaving. This game is stupid. It's obvious I'm not gonna win." I explained, continuing to walk.

"God, you're just like Jason when he was around." she mumbled, and I felt a sudden surge of fury flare through my body. I turned around, clenching my fists, my eyebrows narrowed, and my face heated up.

"Don't _call me_ that!" I screamed, and she seemed thrown off by my anger, most likely expecting some sort of sassy remark rather than my screaming voice.

The laughter around the table silenced, and they all looked at me, similar surprised looks on their faces.

Angry, and now embarrassed as well, I stomped off to my room, locking the door behind me. I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, which was nothing but a blank white.

For the last time,

I am _not_ Jason Todd!


	3. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO**

Valentine's Day is a meaningless holiday. Why would you need a certain day once a year to show your love to a person who you should love an entire year?

No, it is not Valentine's Day. It is Thursday, February 14th, 2019, at 5:32 EST.

The Joker begged to differ.

As far as I know, he was being held in Arkham Asylum (When will the idiots who run Gotham figure out he escapes that place _every time?_ ). However, earlier today, he escaped, and burst into Gotham's finest restaurant.

He killed every person in there.

There were no survivors.

None.

He made sure all of the entrances were locked, shot out the security cameras, and released what might as well be referred to as his "smiling gas". Because though Bruce and I got to the scene as quickly as possible, the only thing we stumbled upon by the time we got there were the corpses of Gotham's rich with their eyes nearly popped out of their head, and wide, disturbing grins on their faces.

We searched for him all the next two nights. We endlessly worked with Commissioner Gordon. I didn't get sleep for forty-eight hours, as I spent the time finding leads with Father, only to turn up to a dead end with each. I collapsed in the Bat Cave, and Father had to carry me up to my bed.

When I woke up, my head was throbbing, and I took a sip of water that Alfred left for me at my bedside. I couldn't help but think how this was like the Blaser bullet case all over again- no leads, no nothing. It couldn't be solved, because of course it couldn't. It's been a month since the attempted assassination on the Joker, and we were still as stuck as we were when it first started. I had a feeling this case would be no different.

So, I thought I had a rather well-thought out idea. I went back to the cave to tell Bruce, who was still sitting at his desk and looking at holograms.

"Father." he looked up at me.

"Yes, Damian?"

"I know we are trying out best to do this ourselves, but evidence is showing that we are not suitable to do so. Why don't we get the Justice League to help us with this? The Flash could run through the city to find the Joker, Superman could use his x-ray vision to scan it-"

"No."

"Why not?"

"No, Damian."

"I'm going to keep arguing with you unless you give me a legitimate reason as to why you won't request help."

"This is a job for Gotham heroes." he said, "I don't want metahumans in Gotham."

I was pissed off now.

"Father." I said sternly, slamming my fist down on his desk, "One hundred forty-three people _died,_ and you don't want help from because you're too egotistical to admit you need it? I am a child, Father, and I still appear to be more mature enough to know we cannot do this alone, despite my dissatisfaction with such. This isn't a game, Father! This is-"

" _Enough,_ Damian!" he yelled, standing up from out of his chair. I glared him down. "The Justice League is for problems involving the entire world, or even outside the world. We all have our respective cities. The Flash has Central City, Superman has Metropolis. Gotham is _my_ city, it's _our_ city to protect. It is _not_ the responsibility of the Justice League."

I was silent a bit before responding quietly, "If you won't get them, I will."

Bruce almost laughed, which irritated me more, "If you want to go ahead and try, fine." and he sat back down.

I clenched my fists. "You know what? I just might do that, Bruce! You'll see, Father. I will go right now!"

Was that impulsive?

Eh, perhaps.

Bruce only smirked. "Good luck, Damian."

I gave him one last harsh glare before I got into my uniform and took off from the Wayne Manor, using the GPS built into my glove to direct me towards a Zeta Tube.

I glided from building to building quite easily and stealthily, seeing the scenery of the busy city below me.

Then, I felt something wrap around and tighten around my torso my near the end of one of my glides to an office building. Still in shock from the sudden event, I had a tough landing on the gravely roof, and I could feel my cheek be scraped open and begin to bleed.

I was panicking, trying to break the ropes, and I began to reach for a birdarang in my belt. I was convinced it was somehow the Joker, and he was going to kidnap and brutally torture me in the same way he did to Jason Todd.

"Hold up, kid." I felt the weight of a boot drop on my back, "I'm not gonna hurt you. Though, I do apologize for the net, but I needed to get your attention somehow."

"Who the fuck are you?!" I spat, getting hold of my birdarang and slicing the ropes open, escaping the weight of his foot and holding the birdarang, ready to fight.

I finally got a look at him. He had a grey outfit on with a leather jacket, and a red helmet that reflected in the moonlight.

"The name's Red Hood." he held out his hand to shake, and I didn't take up the offer. He laughed. "Heh. Hostile. Just like your father."

I narrowed my eyes, " _Who are you?"_ I repeated quietly and sternly.

"Guess I better just cut the shit now, no?" he asked. I saw his hands move up towards his helmet, and he slowly removed it.

I recognized that face.

"What?" was all I could say.

"Hi." he laughed, "I think you know who I am."

"You're Jason Todd."

"Yep."

"And you're supposed to be dead." I added.

"Yep."

"What happened? Did you fake your death? Why are you alive?" I demanded. This entire situation I was suddenly thrown into was extremely bizarre, and-

"Well, that'd be spoilers, wouldn't it?"

I wanted to kill Jason Todd a second time.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, I want you to help me."

"And what makes you think I'll do that, _Todd?"_ I spat his last name like the insult it was.

"I want you to help me kill the Joker."

I didn't respond for a few moments. "What makes you think I'll do that?"

"Well, you've always wanted to prove yourself so you can get on the Team, right? Totally get it, dude. I was on it once. It was pretty dope. Had some hot chicks. Cool dudes. Was fun while it lasted. If you help me kill the Joker, you can prove to both Dick and Bruce that hey- despite your age, you're ready to join- you just took down Gotham's most wanted. And, it'll look like you did it single handedly. I'll get the satisfaction of the Joker's death, and you'll get the Team and the credit for doing it." Jason explained.

It suddenly dawned upon me. "You're the sniper who tried to kill the Joker last month, aren't you?" And then another thing dawned upon me. "Wait, how did you know about me wanting to join the Team?"

"Yes, I am. And I hang around the Wayne manor a bit." Jason put his helmet back on, "Help me find and kill the Joker, and I'll help you get on the Team. Just think about it, kid."

I didn't respond, still attempting to process as to what the hell was happening. He continued to speak.

"Well, if you ask me, it's an offer you can't refuse. Meet me back on this exact building at approximately eleven-twenty-four p.m. tomorrow night if you're in."

I was extremely confused. What was up the specific time? He then suddenly let out a smoke bomb, and I coughed.

I then realized how stupid I was- he probably listed the specific time to keep me confused before he let out the smoke bomb so he could get away without problem. Clever man, I'll have to give it to him.

But there just wasn't enough information he was giving me. The entire thing was extremely sketchy and overall odd, and I was within my rights to be skeptical about it.

I launched my grapple hook to the next building. I was still going to head towards the Zeta Tube, except this time, I wasn't going to the Watchtower to see the Justice League. No, I knew who I had to talk to.

Next stop: Central City, Illinois.


	4. Chapter Three

**CHAPTER THREE**

I'm certain Bartholomew Allen had a heart attack when he saw me at his window in the middle of the night.

He sped up to it, in nothing but his boxers, and opened it.

"What the hell? What are you-"

I made my way inside.

"Tell me what you know about Red Hood."

"Couldn't there be a better time for this?"

"You're from the future, no?"

"I mean yeah, but-"

"So fucking tell me what you know about Red Hood."

Kid Flash seemed taken aback by my language, and sighed, rubbing his temples, obviously irritated from my sudden intrusion. "Red Hood… ugh, let me think. He was revived by the Ghuls in the Lazarus Pit, and was a Light-Reach soldier before being killed in battle with the League again. They didn't revive him because the pit no longer existed, I guess."

I was silent for a few moments, then frowned. "That's it? Do you know who he was outside of Red Hood? Like, his real identity?"

"Uh, no. Sorry, dude. I just remember reading it on a memorial when I was still in _that_ era." he was about to ask a question, probably wondering how I knew who Red Hood was or why I cared, but by the time that happened, I was already gone.

 _Jason Todd was revived by Mother and Grandfather?_ I thought. Grandfather only ever had the Lazarus pit used on himself- when he was slaughtered by Black Beetle a few years ago, Mother had to revive him herself, but he was never the same. Ra's is nothing now- all he does is sit in a chair, stare blankly into the distance, and murmur the occasional word. He failed to make a full recovery like Jason Todd did, despite Jason's death arguably being far more brutal than his.

Hell, why did Mother and Grandfather revive Jason, anyways?

As I walked up to the Zeta Tube, and typed in _Gotham City, New York_ as where I wanted to teleport to and erased _Central City, Illinois_ from my logging history, I thought about Jason's offer.

Was it smart to take it? It appeared to be rather risky, and my common sense was screaming at me that the entire thing was idiotic.

Yet, life is one giant game of Risk, no? I've taken plenty of risks in my eleven years of life, and I've come out of all of them just fine. There's no reason as to why this should be any different.

11:24 p.m, tomorrow night.

At 11:24 p.m. tomorrow night, I'd meet Jason Todd again.

And we'd see what would do from there.

I got back home, and passed Bruce on my way to my room.

"Well?" he asked, "Did you manage to convince the Justice League to help us?"

"No, Father, you were right," I lied and pretended to sound disappointed, "It's just up to us as the protectors of Gotham."

He smiled, "You should listen to me more, Damian Wayne." I began to walk away. He then stopped me. "What happened to your face?"

I was thrown slightly off guard. "Oh, I accidentally slipped and fell onto a roof when grappling across the city." It was a half-lie. A half-lie I hoped he wouldn't detect.

"And you didn't think to clean it out?"

"It's only a matter of time before the Joker strikes again. I didn't want to take time to just go clean my face." I continued to lie.

"Mhm." he nodded, "Well, go clean it, and get to bed, Damian."

I simply nodded, went back to the bathroom to clean my face, then proceeded to go to my room, get into bed, and fall asleep within moments of laying down.

* * *

I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of thunder booming near the manner. I let out a panicked gasp, looking towards the sliding glass doors that lead out to my balcony. Lightning flashed, and through the closed curtains, I swore I could've seen the silhouette of Jason Todd standing on the rails, somehow observing me in my sleep.

Though, as quickly as it came, the lightning disappeared, and the silhouette was gone.

I turned to my side, facing away from the window, and I had one thought on my mind.

_Does Father want me to do this?_

_Would Father appreciate me killing his worst nemesis?_

Well, I honestly cannot see a reason as to why he would _not_ want me to. I am completing a task he cannot, and logically speaking, he would be grateful for me doing such.

I am only making the world a better place, after all, aren't I?


	5. Chapter Four

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Father tapped his fingers on his desk and didn't spare a glance at me. The conversation that was taking place was perhaps the most tedious experience of my entire-

"Are you sure you're feeling sick?"

"Yes, Father." I replied monotonously.

"Very well, then. I should be back by four. If not, then I'm dead."

I could hear Alfred chuckle in the distance, but I didn't laugh. Bruce got up from his desk, and walked away without another word.

"Would you like any sort of medication to help settle your stomach, Master Damian?" Pennyworth asked.

"No. In fact, I think it's best if I'm left alone tonight. I get very grumpy when I'm sick." I informed him.

"The proper word for you would be _grumpier,_ Master Damian." Alfred insisted, and chuckled some more. I simply rolled my eyes. "Well, if you need me, you know what to do." he said, and began to walk away, his shoes clicking on the floor of the Batcave with the noise echoing off the walls as he did.

I went to my room, and simply waited. I passed the time by playing with a few gadgets, mindlessly flipping channels on T.V., and looking back at the alarm clock. I spent a good two and a half hours inside of my room before deciding it was time to suit up and leave.

The manor was full of cameras and other means of security. Hacking into it was a simple feat, despite Bruce believing I couldn't bypass it. I overheard him conversing with Pennyworth once that he called it a "parental lock", apparently making it so complex that even I couldn't get past it.

I hate being viewed as a child.

My biggest worry would now be Alfred. The man wasn't too different from Father, now that I thought of it- he seemed to appear from the shadows out of seemingly nowhere.

I slowly opened my door, tip-toeing down the hallway, constantly glancing back and forth. It felt as if I were a naive young child who was sneaking down the stairs to find out what presents he got for Christmas, only to discover Santa wasn't real.

I could hear noise from one of the living rooms, and as I turned the corner, I saw Pennyworth as still as a statue, resting on the sofa. He was watching _Pawn Stars_ , and the owner of the shop, Rick Harrison, was scolding his overweight son for purchasing an old vending machine that would take a lot of money to restore. I rolled my eyes.

 _The excessive amount of sugar and lack of hydration that is a result of consuming a soft drink would make it obvious that the death machine is not worth purchasing in the first place_ , I thought as I quietly crept past Alfred.

I then proceeded to move quickly throughout the manor, pushing the bookcase that lead down to the Batcave to the side, and entering before pushing it back into place. I ran to get my uniform on and gathered the appropriate gadgets before opening an exit and leaving.

Now, I had to worry about Bruce seeing me.

I made my way throughout the city as stealthily as I possibly could, returning to the roof I met Jason Todd upon. He wasn't there. I checked the time- it was 11:22. I hid in the shadows for some time, keeping track of the time. At 11:24 exactly, Todd seemed to have almost launched himself onto the roof, making a smooth landing as he did.

"I know you're there, Robin. Come on out."

I rolled my eyes, slowly stepping out of the shadows. "May we please talk somewhere a bit more private?"

"Follow me." Jason turned around and jumped off the roof. I did the same, keeping an eye out for Bruce. I swear I saw him at some points, and I was paranoid he was following me, but I couldn't tell whether or not my eyes were playing tricks on me.

Jason led me halfway throughout the city before entering the shattered window of an abandoned apartment complex on the sixth floor. I followed, and he grabbed a board, covering the window, and he shut the raggedy old curtains on the window next to it. He put his grapple back in his coat, and then from what I could see from the moonlight that shone through the holes in the raggedy curtain, began to pull something else out. I tensed, grabbing a birdarang.

"Relax, kiddo." he commanded, and showed me the item he pulled out.

It was a can of Coca-Cola.

"Go on. Take it. I thought we should have a drink."

"Don't like soda." I crossed my arms over my chest, remembering my thoughts about the _Pawn Stars_ incident from earlier.

"What eleven year old doesn't like soda? Sheesh." he said, putting the can down on a desk by a computer that looked like it dated back to the nineties. "Whatever. More for me."

I was going to ask him how he knew my age, but I decided against it. He sat down in the torn up fabric chair by the desk, and jiggled the mouse next to the computer. The screen illuminated.

"Now, I would try to act all cool and be like, 'Back in my day we had all of these crappy ol' computers.' But I was born in '99, this piece of shit is older than me. Also, I never had the experience of using a computer as a kid considering the fact that I was fucking homeless." he chuckled. He clicked on an icon with a camera, and twenty-four different areas in Gotham were shown.

"Here's the locations I think the Joker is most likely to be. Also, I hacked into Bruce's city cameras three nights ago so you wouldn't be caught doing anything. You're welcome." he smirked at me.

I wanted to slap myself in the face. How could I forget about Bruce's city cameras? I am such an idiot.

"Thank you."

"So, why do you want to be on the Team?" Jason asked, eyes not leaving the screen.

I didn't answer.

"Well?" he finally looked over his shoulder.

"You will find the answer to be ridiculous." I replied.

"I've seen some pretty ridiculous shit in my day, kid. You're not gonna say anything that's going to phase me."

"It's not so much being around the 'hot chicks' and 'cool dudes'," I quoted, "it's… well, to make things simple, I am treated like a baby. To join the team is to show signs of maturity and being an adult, as you have to be a certain age to join. If I can prove I'm old enough to join a team of superheroes, I can prove I am not a child and I do _not_ need to be babied. That being, I do not need Dick cooing over me, or Bruce not taking me seriously. In all stances but biological, I am _not_ a child." I explained.

Jason grinned. "I like the way you talk. I get why you denied the drink now." he said, cracking it open for himself, "I think I'm still mentally fifteen. Good, but shitty age. You're horny but you find every girl to be annoying, you're energetic yet tired, and you're confident yet you have a low self-esteem. But that's not why I'm not mentally fifteen. It's because that's how old I was when that son of a bitch murdered me. And I'll never be over it until he's dead." I could feel him starting to get angry, and he took a deep breath to calm down.

"Do you have any sort of plan?" I asked.

"His bitch is still somehow locked in Arkham. I was thinking maybe we could kidnap her and use her as bait."

"You mean you want to take Harley Quinn _out_ of the place she's contained in? Are you crazy?" I demanded.

"Yes."

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

"I think he's making a plan- a big one. He would've broke Harley out with him when he escaped on Valentine's Day, unless he had some other idea in mind. He loves the bitch, that's for sure, loves her in some sort of fucked up and extremely unhealthy way, but basically what I'm saying is that our gal should've been freed by now, even though it's only… what day is it?"

"February fifteenth. Well, actually, it'll be the sixteenth in a few minutes."

"Right." he nodded, "We need to get her before he does."

"She might kill us." I pointed out. I've never encountered her personally, but Father has shown me the results of his battles with her in the past. She was probably as insane as the Joker, if not more.

"It'll be the hottest way to die, then." Jason chuckled.

Again, I rolled my eyes. I wasn't looking forward to the day where I would begin to develop sexual attraction towards females- I'd imagine it'd be rather distracting to any task I'd try to be focusing on.

"Take a joke, bud." he said, and laced his fingers together.

"Now we just have to figure out exactly how we're going to get our crazy lady out."


	6. Chapter Five

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Jason clicked on a camera, and a 3D blueprint of Arkham Asylum appeared. Another window popped up, which held the option for viewing inside the Asylum. He moved the icon aside.

"Now, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, Robin, but despite Arkham looking very tall and like it has several floors, most of it is actually underground. This is the underground area." he explained, gesturing to a section of the asylum. "Right around this area," he pointed to a specific area under the ground, on the side and near the back of the building, "is where Harley Quinn is being kept."

I simply nodded, not saying a word.

"How do I know this? Well, I hacked into Arkham's systems. Got records of where each prisoner was being held, who was checked in when, and access to their cameras, sensors, you know the whole shebang. And I'll tell you, it was a bitch to get to this point. Maybe I'm just rusty in hacking, but they've got good firewalls."

"Okay." I simply acknowledged. What was I supposed to say? It wasn't like I could sympathize with him.

"Anyways, regarding the plan- we'll partially disable their security systems. Partially, because if we do it fully, then the doors that will hold back the other prisoners will be unlocked, and they'd escape- and that's something I'm not in the mood to deal with. But back to the plan. We'll enter via the rooftop from an air ventilation. Won't be too difficult to remove the cap on top of the vent, just gotta put some muscle into it. After that, we'll make our way through the air vents, stop right before we reach Harley's room, because the rooms themselves don't even have air vents, for obvious reasons. We'll exit next to her room, and there may be guards. You can fight them off, and I will open her door, get her out, tell her if she doesn't come with us then I'll blow her fucking brains out, you know the deal. We'll leave the same way we entered as quickly as we can, and bring her back here." Jason spun around in his chair, which let out a loud squeak. "Of course, there can be things that go wrong, but this is what we're going to try. In fact, if you ask me, the hardest part is already over, which was getting past the firewall. So, Robin. Questions? Comments? Concerns?"

"Alright. What if Harley Quinn fights back?"

"Well, kiddo, there's two of us and one of her." he sipped his coke, "We're going to try and put the plan in effect tomorrow night. That sound good?"

"It should not be an issue." I informed him.

"Great. Come here tomorrow at midnight."

I simply nodded before taking off, back towards the manor.

It was a simple plan Jason had thought of, but perhaps that was all that was needed for it to work.

* * *

"You're still feeling sick." Bruce crossed his arms.

"Yes, Father." I grumbled, "I do not wish to go tonight."

"Very well, then. As you're aware, tonight, Dick and I are going towards the docks to take the matters of Gotham's human trafficking case into our own hands. Barbara will be the extra set of eyes and ears. However, you can stay and help Barbara if you do not wish to join Dick and I."

I bit my lip, trying to think of an excuse to not do that, but nothing was coming to mind. Frustrated, I growled, pretending it was due to having a " _lame"_ job for the night.

As much as I hated it, the execution of the plan would have to wait a day.

I couldn't afford to give away my position.

* * *

"Where were you yesterday?" Jason demanded the following night.

"Bruce made me stay at the manor to be of assistance in regards to a human trafficking case. I was barely able to make it out tonight." I explained, "We won't suffer from a one-day delay."

"Except we could have." Jason snarled, "The Joker could be coming for his bitch any day now. We can't afford to delay it any longer!"

"Then let's go now!" I challenged. "If you want to put your plan in effect so goddamn bad, do it now, _Todd."_

Jason took a deep breath. "Okay, kiddo. You're right." he went over to his computer, clicking a few things and typing on the keyboard a bit. He turned towards me, putting his helmet on his head.

"Let's go."


End file.
